


Radar’s Nightmare

by jilloreilly



Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Comfort/Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Father Figures, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Injury Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-09 18:28:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19481563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jilloreilly/pseuds/jilloreilly
Summary: Radar is injured in a mine field and Potter, whom Radar is still quite nervous around, is the only one there to help. The event makes Potter realize how much he loves Radar like a son. Lots of hurt/comfort, lots of sad Radar. Radar needs all the hugs.





	1. Chapter 1

BANG!  
Potter’s head jerked up faster than his mind could process the sound.  
Fire.  
Scraps of metal flying everywhere.  
The noise was blood-curdling, thundering, searing.  
No matter how dreaded that sound was, the one that followed was infinitely worse.  
A short, but agonized, sharp scream shot through the mess of fire. Radar O’Reilly, barely out of high school and smaller than any other soldier in the unit, was sent careening backwards. Potter shouted as the young boy flailed wildly, hitting the ground with a sickening thud, directly on his hip. He was flung to his back, then finally, limply to the ground in a heap of scrap metal and blood.  
No. No, no, no, no. Dear God, please no. No! Potter found himself frozen to the ground as the smoke cleared. Loud whimpers floated up from the small body slumped on the ground.  
Radar lay crumpled in the dust, curling up weakly in a ball. He was crying. Potter burst towards him, sliding on his knees the last few feet, kneeling by the young corporal’s side. He looked around wildly, hollering, “Man down! Man down! Someone! Get help!” He grabbed Radar by the shoulder and shook him gingerly. “Corporal O’Reilly, Corporal, can you hear me? Corporal!”  
Radar let out a soft whimper. His glasses were shattered, lying pathetically near his scraped, blood-covered face.  
“Goddamnit, where is everyone?” Potter muttered. He didn’t have any sort of radio, nothing to let the camp know he needed help.  
The two soldiers had been searching for wounded near the seemingly abandoned field. They’d been informed of casualties near them, and, with Hawkeye Pierce, B.J Hunnicutt, and Maxwell Klinger away on supply pick-up, they’d volunteered immediately.  
They’d never found any wounded. Even if they were there, they’d have to wait a bit longer.  
He considered running back himself, but one look at the boy told him he couldn’t leave him alone. Not only was Radar clearly badly injured, but the trembling of his body and the sobs in his throat told Potter he was terrified.  
Radar’s eyes were squeezed tightly shut, and his bottom lip quivered slightly. Potter ripped off his jacket and wrapped it tightly over Radar’s upper body—from the way he was lying, Potter couldn’t see what specifically Radar had hurt. He needed to move him, despite the knowledge that the action would potentially make things worse.  
Radar’s breath was getting heavier and it had been too long since he’d opened his eyes.  
“Corp- er, Radar, I want you to try and talk with me. Until I check out your head, I want you awake. Okay?”  
“Too...s-sleepy.” Radar slurred, eyes still closed.  
“I know you are. But I need you to stay awake for me. Can you do that?”  
“Don’t...know...”  
“Sure you can. Look at me. Open your eyes and look up at me.”  
Radar gently opened his eyes, disorientated and dazed as he searched the voice above him. “Colonel?”  
“That’s me. Now, listen, can you tell me what you’re feeling right now? I don’t want to move you, but I need to know what we’re dealing with here.”  
“I...” Radar’s face was deathly pale. His breath shuddered unevenly, and Potter could tell that look in his eyes was pure fear. “I can’t...” He bit down hard on his bottom lip, eyes filling with tears. “I don’t know w-w-what happened!”  
“Radar, hey, Radar, focus. Look at me.” Potter noticed how Radar flinched when he grasped his hand. “Don’t panic. Just take deep breaths. I’m going to help you.”  
Radar screwed his eyes shut again, tears escaping down his round cheeks. Potter bit his lip, stroking Radar’s back affectionately. That love that seemed to crawl back every time one of his friends, one of his family members, one of the men under his command needed him, filled his chest. Which one of those categories Radar fell under, he wasn’t sure. But that didn’t matter. He was determined to take care of the wounded boy, shaking and bleeding onto the dusty ground.  
Finally, Potter took a breath and carefully, gently rolled Radar onto his back. “AHHH!” Radar let out a scream, grabbing wildly at Potter’s hands, fighting, struggling to push him away.  
“I’m sorry, kid.” Potter tried to ignore the gasping sobs wracking Radar’s small frame as he fought to curl back on his side. Potter pulled away the coat he’d had wrapped around him, then removed the one Radar had been wearing. Blood stained his light green shirt, blossoming around his stomach. Potter pulled his shirt up, revealing the metal scraps stuck around it. “Damnit. I can’t get this out here. We need to get you to camp.” His biggest concern now was internal bleeding. Radar winced sharply as he inhaled, nodding weakly.  
Potter moved to Radar’s hip, which had previously been hidden underneath him. Radar stiffened at Potter’s touch as he examined the blood soaking through his pants. “Hey, why didn’t you tell me about this?!” Potter lifted Radar’s shirt again. A black-and-purple bruise crept up from his hip, puffy and green around the edges. As Potter moved to look below the waist of Radar’s pants to see the wound further, Radar suddenly jerked away, wincing at the movement.  
“What’s wrong?” Potter looked up with a start.  
“Oh, um, excuse me, sir. I just...I don’t...” Radar muttered. He clutched his hip, hiding the bruise with his hand.  
“Radar, I need to look at you! You’re hurt!” Potter reached for him again. Radar tried to shy away, but gasped in pain, falling back to the ground. The blood drained from his cheeks. His hand flew behind him, and his eyes widened. “Radar, enough of this nonsense. I need to treat you. Now you cut this out.” Without hesitating, Potter reached over and grabbed Radar’s shoulders. Helping him to his side so his injured hip was up, he forced Radar’s hand away from his back side. Radar gasped as Potter shifted him a bit.  
A huge gash connected Radar’s hip wound to the back of his thigh, barely reaching his bottom. His leg was covered in blood. “Radar, why didn’t you tell me?!” Potter nearly yelled, supporting Radar so only his legs touched the ground.  
“I...I don’t...” Radar shivered, covering his behind and inching away from Potter. “Ow-w-w...” With his other hand, he pulled off his Jeep cap. A large bruise protruded from his head. “Sir...” He slurred painfully. His eyelids fell closed with a soft moan, falling limp onto the ground. Red-black blood mingled with the dust, seeping through his clothes.  
“Damnit. Damnit!” Potter hoisted the passed-out corporal from the ground, trying not to mind the blood all over his body, staining his own clothes. Half-conscious, Radar whimpered softly as Potter lifted him over his shoulder.  
“Sir...” Radar slurred.  
“What is it?”  
“Am I gonna die?” He asked sleepily.  
“Die? Of course not! I’m sorry to say, but I’m afraid you’re stuck here a little longer.”  
“I’m scared.”  
“I know, Radar.”  
He was getting Radar back to the camp, back to safety, if it was the last thing he did.  
As Potter trudged along, holding Radar steady, Radar drifted in and out. He mumbled under his breath, mostly nonsense, but occasionally names. Specifically, one name. Eyes closed, mostly asleep, Radar whispered something about someone called ‘Blake.’ Something about ‘come back,’ something about ‘scared.’ Potter walked faster. He needed a hospital now.  
The camp came into focus. “Hey, hey!” Potter shouted, “I need help! Someone help!”  
Immediately, Hawkeye and B.J darted from the mess tent, looking around wildly before catching sight of Potter, squinting at the figure slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.  
“Is that...” B.J ran behind Potter to get a look at Radar’s face. “Oh my god!”  
“He stepped on a landmine. I need help, now.” Potter didn’t break his stride and the doctors fell in step with him. “Injuries include severe stab wound along the left hip, thigh, and rear. Heaven knows he won’t let me examine it there, though, so I don’t know what the extent is. He’s got a belly full of scrap metal, and a large bump on the head. In and out of consciousness. He’s lost a LOT of blood.”  
“Give him to me. Let me see him!”  
Hawkeye grabbed Potter’s shoulder, eyes wild. He felt Radar’s pulse, then let Potter pass the boy from his shoulder into his arms. Cradling Radar protectively against him, Hawkeye bolted towards the tents, B.J and Potter close behind.  
Hawkeye placed him gently in a bed as the others reached the hospital. Blood covered Radar’s clothes. He was sickly white, breathing heavily and unevenly.  
“My biggest worry is blood loss. I need bandages, STAT!” Hawkeye turned Radar on his right side, exposing the ugly wounds from the explosion. “There’s nothing in his hip, just a nasty bruise. That’s going to hurt him for a long time.” B.J appeared at Radar’s side, pressing a cold compress on the bruise. Radar jumped, gasping a little as the cold touched his skin, then immediately relaxed, letting out a sigh, as the ice began to numb it.  
“Okay, Radar, luckily,” Hawkeye raised an eyebrow, bending down to meet his friend’s unfocused, cloudy eye, “you avoided getting your bottom blown up. However, your thigh is another story. I need to operate and get that metal out. Now, you get self-conscious on me now and flinch, and I might just cut you open.”  
“You’re not going to sedate him for any of this?” B.J asked, handing Hawkeye the tools he needed. The nurses weren’t on-call, having not heard choppers or ambulances. Only the three men were there for their friend.  
“Not when I don’t know how bad his head injury is. I wanna keep him awake for a bit.”  
Potter faltered, hanging back as Hawkeye began the painful process of removing the scrap metal stuck in poor Radar’s thigh. Radar had his eyes squeezed shut, wincing, occasionally letting out a soft yell, but never flinching.  
Potter bit his lip, suddenly feeling as though he didn’t belong, didn’t deserve to be standing here. Clearly, the death of Henry Blake, whose name Radar had been repeating, left a hole in the kid that he couldn’t fill. Clearly, Radar didn’t want him to fill it.  
Potter never thought he’d come to care about Radar the way he had. When he’d first met the boy, Radar had been, well, squirrelly. He’d been wary of that strange ability he had that could only be described as ESP, and turned off by that constant nervousness Radar carried with him.  
But something about that sweet, round face, the way he shuffled a little when he walked, that voice that made him sound so young and naive, not to mention how absolutely tiny he was for his age, barely tall enough to reach the shelves of his desk, brought out an instinct in Potter that made him feel as though one of the best things he could do here in the unit was look out for Radar O’Reilly. He had to admit, he had come to love Radar like his own son.  
Forcing himself to break out of his own thoughts, Potter looked back at Hawkeye, who, now finished, was wrapping a long bandage tightly around Radar’s thigh.  
Hawkeye turned to B.J. “That’s the easy part.” He took a breath and rolled Radar onto his back. Radar winced as his wounds hit the bed, trying to shift back to his side. “Hey, easy.” Hawkeye muttered. “Your belly’s a junkyard. I need to get this out.”  
Potter began to inch quietly towards the door. He’d done his part for Radar. He’d better leave the poor kid be.  
Suddenly, a small, slurred voice came from the bed, stopping Potter in his tracks.  
“O-oh, are you leaving, sir?”  
Radar’s face peered around Hawkeye, straight at Potter. His eyes were large and shimmering with fear.  
“Well, I...do you not want me to?” Potter shifted a little.  
“Oh, no, sir. I understand you’re busy. I’m sorry for taking up so much of your time anyhow. That’s okay, sir.”  
“Radar?”  
“I mean, if you wanted to stay, I wouldn’t...I wouldn’t mind.”  
“Then I’ll stay right here.” Potter marched back to Radar’s bedside. Hawkeye had his shirt torn up, working on removing the metal. Radar’s stomach was soaked in blood.  
He cried out suddenly, body tensing, as Hawkeye pulled out a larger piece—immediately, blood began to fill the hole. “Damnit.” Hawkeye grabbed for the bandages as Radar’s face drained of any color. His eyes fell closed. “That piece got something inside him. I’m opening him up.”  
“Wait!” B.J held his friend back, grabbed Radar’s wrist. “Get blood pressure on him, now! Pulse is dropping.”  
“Blood pressure spiking!”  
“No!” Hawkeye grabbed Radar’s wrist himself. “Pulse is weak. C’mon, Radar.” Hawkeye’s hands had begun to shake. “I’m opening him up, now. We’re losing him. Something...something got him inside.”  
Potter stepped past Hawkeye, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Let me do it, Pierce.”  
“What?”  
“Pierce, look at your hands. You’re scared. I get it. He’s your friend. But you go in there unstable, he could die. Let me do it.”  
“With all due respect, I’m perfectly capable of performing a simple surgery, sir.”  
“I know you are. But these aren’t normal circumstances. Now stand down. That’s an order.”  
Hawkeye stared at Potter for a minute. Finally, he stepped aside. B.J was there, slinging an arm around Hawk’s shoulder. Potter never got nervous before a surgery. However, now, he felt the weight of this kid’s life, this kid who the people here seemed to really like—now was not the time to let it shake him. He took a breath, glancing at Hawkeye, and made the cut.  
“Suction.” He gestured to B.J. Radar was going to get through this. That was a promise. 

*****************


	2. Brave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Potter tried to convince Radar it’s okay that he’s scared by the whole thing.

A sudden scream rang through the OR, followed by a loud crash. Hawkeye awoke with a start—he hadn’t been able to make himself leave Radar’s side since Potter finished the surgery, and had fallen asleep just outside the tent.   
Panic rose in his chest, constricting his breath and he bolted inside like a frightened horse. “Radar!”   
Immediately, Hawkeye heard the heavy breathing, decorated with sobbing, shuddering groans. Across the room, Radar lay trembling on the filthy ground. His IV tubes were tangled and pulled loose, and he had landed on his hurt hip.   
“Oh my god!” Hawkeye skidded beside his friend, shaking him by the shoulders. “Hey, what happened?!”  
“Ow-w-w!” Radar crumpled to the floor after attempting to push himself up, landing in Hawkeye’s lap. Hawkeye brushed back Radar’s unruly hair, then lifted him gently to his feet and back into bed. Fixing his IV tubes, Hawkeye sat down on the edge of Radar’s bed. “Radar, hey, what happened?!”   
“Oh, I-I fell out of my bed, sir. I had a, I had a bad dream.” Radar didn’t meet his friend’s eyes, blushing slightly.   
Hawkeye inched closet to Radar. He looked awfully shaken up, clammy and dazed. His curls were hanging crazily in his eyes, but the fear was evident in them. “What did you dream about?” Hawkeye asked.   
“Oh, really, sir, I’m being silly. It wasn’t that bad, I promise. Don’t worry about me.”  
“Radar?”  
“I was just dreaming about the accident.” Radar admitted. “It was real-real scary, Hawk. I thought I was a goner. And then Potter saved me. He was right there, no matter how much I fought him about the cuts in the, um, the rear of my behind. But the other stuff, like my stomach, that coulda killed me! And if he hadn’t been there...every time I try and close my eyes, I just hear that BANG!”   
“Radar, you’re alive. That’s what matters.”  
“There’s more.” Radar said, his voice falling soft.   
“What?”  
“Every time I fell, or I fainted, or I was in lots and lots of pain, I...I saw...” Radar closed his eyes, bottom lip beginning to quiver. “Colonel Blake.”  
Hawkeye was silent. Radar continued, hanging his head. “I was happy to see him. He was...he was here. He always told me that if I got hurt, he’d be right there beside me. And...and he was.”  
“You know hallucinating isn’t uncommon when you’re in lots of pain.” Hawkeye said softly.   
“I wish it wasn’t a hallucination.” Radar’s face crumpled. Tears began to slide down his round cheeks, body jerking with sobs.   
“Radar, hey, it’s okay to miss him.” Hawkeye put his arm around Radar, pulling him towards him. “You’re overwhelmed, overtired, over—, over everything! You’re just fine, okay? It’s okay. I promise. We’re all right here for you. Do you think you could get some sleep?”  
Radar hid his face in his hands. He was crying harder, trembling, teeth chattering. Hawkeye’s heart broke a bit as he wrapped Radar in a hug. Sure, he wasn’t big on that sort of sappy stuff, but for Radar, he’d make the exception.   
“What can I do, Radar? Anything you want, okay?” Hawkeye pulled away. “You’ve gotta try and calm down. Your vitals are shaky.”  
“I’m sorry, sir! I’ll be fine. Y’really oughta leave me.” Radar took a jagged breath.   
“Nope. Believe me, I’ve seen worse reactions to trauma than this. You’re not trying to shoot me yet, which is always something.”  
“I did so much wrong!” Radar sobbed. “I was stupid to be near that field in the first place, then I got hurt and I couldn’t take care of myself and be tougher, then I wouldn’t let Colonel Potter help me, and now...” Radar didn’t finish, just dissolved into fresh torrents of tears.   
“You were shocked, Radar, give yourself a break. You did perfectly. Everything just right.”   
“Really?”  
“Really. Now, there’s someone who’s pretty anxious to see you.” Hawkeye nodded towards the door as Colonel Potter stepped inside the OR. He hovered back anxiously, almost scared of the knowledge that he wasn’t who this kid wanted to see. He’d never fill the shoes the last colonel left behind.   
“Colonel!” Radar looked up with a start, brushing tears from his cheeks and weakly giving a shaky salute.   
Potter had to laugh a little. “At ease, soldier.” He said, sitting down on the bed. Hawkeye got to his feet, mussing Radar’s hair.   
“I’ll leave you to it. Call if you need anything.”  
Radar felt the blood rising in his cheeks. Sitting here, in front of a superior officer, crying? He was probably going to get kicked out of the army.   
“You gave me one hell of a scare there for a while, kid.” Potter said finally.   
“I did? I’m sorry.” Radar’s wide eyes were downcast.   
“Sure. Your pulse plummeted. Turns out, you were bleeding internally.”  
“Oh, well, it wasn’t on purpose, sir, I promise.”  
“How’re you feeling?” Potter reached for Radar’s shirt. Radar, for once, didn’t flinch a bit as Potter checked the stitches along Radar’s belly from the surgery, then the bruise on his hip.   
“Everything sort of hurts.” Radar said, “my head won’t stop pounding and my stomach hurts a little too. And my hip sort of just throbs. It also hurts when I try and sit.” Radar shifted embarrassedly. He was sitting with one leg tucked underneath him, trying to keep the seat of his pants above the bed, blushing as he tried to get comfortable.   
“What are these tears about?” Potter asked. Radar closed his eyes. Here it comes.   
“I had a bad dream.” He said. “I guess I just panicked a little.”  
“What’d you dream about that got you so upset?”  
“Oh, sir, I don’t wanna bother you any more than I ha—“  
“Radar, I survived the trenches in World War I. I was fighting for my life before you were even born. I’m tough. If I didn’t want to hear it, I would get up and walk away. I promise.”   
“Well, I g-guess...I was dreaming about what might’ve happened if...if you weren’t there.” Radar hiccuped. “And...and someone else was there too, and I knew if I was seein’ him, I must be dead, ‘cause that’s what he is. And...and I was glad to see him, until...well, I didn’t tell Hawkeye this, but then, he told me how disappointed he was in me. For being s-s-“ Radar’s bottom lip began to quiver again, “scared. I shoulda been braver.”  
“What are you talking about?” Potter put a hand on Radar’s shoulder, realizing the boy was shaking.   
“If I was braver, I wouldn’t still be scared to go back to sleep right now.” Radar hung his head.   
“O’Reilly, you listen to me now. Do you know how many men I saw get hurt during the Great War? If only some of them had been half as calm as you were. You DO know it’s okay to be shaken up a little, right?” Potter chuckled, “and, for what it’s worth, from what I’ve heard, Colonel Blake loved you very much. I don’t think you could have disappointed him if you tried.”  
Radar nodded slightly. His breaths were still wracked with small sobs, and he was shivering, teeth chattering slightly. Potter put his hand on Radar’s clammy, pale forehead. “You’ve got a little bit of a fever. You need to get some rest, okay?” Potter helped Radar to his feet, then pulled back the blankets on the bed for Radar to crawl into. “Go on, lie down.”   
Shakily, Radar fell back on the bed. “Sir, I...I’m...I don’t wanna dream again. I’d rather just stay awake.”   
“O’Reilly, you need sleep. I don’t want you getting an infection. You’re already wearing yourself down. I’d really prefer having you alive.” Radar opened his mouth to protest, but was interrupted by an enormous yawn splitting his face. “There. See? Go back to sleep now.”   
“What if...what if I...” Radar slurred sleepily.   
“If you wake up, if you have a nightmare, I’ll...” Potter took a breath. “I’ll be right here.”  
“Really?”  
“If you want me.”  
“That’d be nice, sir.”   
“Well, then, as a doctor and...and a friend, I don’t see how I could refuse. I’ll be right here, Radar. If you need anything, if you’re scared, I’m here.”   
“Gee, thank you, sir. Y’know...he’d really like you, I bet. I think he woulda liked you.”   
“Thanks, kid. Now quiet down.” Potter pulled a wooden chair up to the bedside and sat down, settling in. He was, after all, going to be there for a while.   
Radar lay on his good side, hugging the pillow, closing his eyes. He was still noticeably trembling. Potter stood up and pulled the blankets off an empty bed beside him and spread it gently over Radar’s small body, tucking it around his face snuggly. Immediately, the young corporal went still.   
Potter sat back, watching for a moment to be sure he was okay. Radar’s face, sweet and still youthfully-plump, was streaked with dried tears, pale and clammy. The wounds around his hip and backside would hurt like hell, but they would heal. Potter made the quick resolution to keep Radar standing for a few days when he could come back to work. The things the kid was still facing was the recovery of having his stomach sliced open, the infection it could very well bring him, and the nightmares and memories of the whole event. If he could help the young clerk, keep him under his watch, save him any pain he could, it was his job to do so. He wasn’t leaving Radar’s side.   
Soft footsteps appeared behind him. Potter spun around to see Hawkeye, donned in his red bathrobe, standing over Radar and holding a familiar teddy bear in his hands.   
“You did a nice job on the surgery, Colonel.” Hawkeye said quietly, catching Potter’s eye. “There’s not many people in the world I’d let touch my friends without me around, but you...you saved the day.”   
Potter nodded. “Anyone would have done it.”  
“He’s a good kid, y’know. Maybe after this you’ll be able to talk to him a little more. He misses Blake, but he’s a good kid if you get close to him.”  
“I was nervous to try, if I’m being honest. How bout that? I can lead a unit, survive the trenches, but I still get jittery when someone I care about is on the line.”   
“Good to know you’re still human.” Hawkeye smiled hovered over the bed. Careful not to wake him, he brushed his hand lovingly over Radar’s forehead. “He’s got a fever, you know.”   
“I know. I’m on it.”  
“Give him this, okay?” Hawkeye handed Potter the bear, slapped him on the back and walked silently from the OR, leaving Potter alone again.   
Carefully, Potter pulled back the blankets, nestling the bear into the crook of Radar’s elbow. A small smile appeared on Radar’s lips as he shifted in his sleep, hugging the bear tightly. Potter smiled, fixing the blankets back under his chin.  
Sitting back in his chair, Potter let his eyes close, suddenly realizing how exhausted he was. He fell asleep at Radar O’Reilly’s bedside, right beside him, as he promised. For the time being, with his wounds stitched up and his mind put a bit at ease and his bear in his arms, Radar was content again, so all was right in Potter’s world.


End file.
